Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch
by Book-of-Fanfics
Summary: A green light flickers in the distance. He can almost touch it, feel it. Harry Potter's dreams grow more vicious as time passes. Something unimaginable has happened at Hogwarts, and Harry must choose between 2 people he loves, for the sake of them all...
1. The Neighbor of Privet Drive

Author's Note: I'd like to kind of leave a VERY short summary of book 5 to freshen up your memory. Please note, if you have not read book 5 DO NOT READ ANY MORE OF THIS.  
  
Summary of book 5: Harry get expelled but is let back into the school after proven innocent  
  
Harry and his friends start a D.A class that they use to learn extra Defense Against the Dark arts. They do this so they'll be ready if ever up against Voldemort.  
  
They have a mean new DADA teacher, Professor Umbridge, who later in the book gets carried off by a wild heard of centaurs. ^_^  
  
Harry finds out that Voldemort wanted to kill him because of a prophecy made by Professor Trelawney. It said that 2 people born on the last day of July had the power to vanquish the dark lord. But here didn't read the second part.whoever he chooses as his equal (meaning harry or Neville, both born on the last day of july) would be the one able to vanquish him. He chose Harry and his powers were temporarily weakened greatly.  
  
Sirius Black dies!!! (How sad.:'(.)  
  
Ron is the new Gryffindor Quidditch Keeper and him and Hermione seem to have some chemistry going on there if you know what I mean.  
  
Ron and Hermione are made prefects!  
  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of this, I'm afraid. :(  
  
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Chapter One  
  
The Neighbor of Privet Drive  
  
All seemed quiet on number four. Clouds drifted in the sky making shadows of them upon the streets below. The place seemed normal, just another row of houses like all the rest, with their same green lawns and their same plain mailboxes. No, nothing here seemed out of the ordinary, not one bit. Everything seemed perfect, like a painting or a dream. But, looks can be deceiving, for this street was not ordinary, quite the contrary. A scrawny figure of a boy lies on the sidewalk of Number 4, Privet Drive. The boy seemed to have passed out from a heat exhaustion, perhaps a lack of food. Whatever the case, he was not moving. He lay motionless without twitching or opening his eyes the slightest.  
  
The boy had untidy black hair and was wearing a cloak. For this boy, was the reason that made Little Whinging, Surrey so different. He was not like the rest, not at all. He held a secret, a dark one that made this place anything but ordinary. He turned over and rolled off the sidewalk. He obviously was not dead, but sleeping under the blazing hot sun. The gentle bump off the sidewalk didn't wake him. He just lay there, more motionless than ever. For many minutes seemed to pass until another figure emerged from the other end of the street. She was an old lady, with a handbag made of a scaly material. She wore a pink frilly dress and had a look of anger on her face. She approached the sleeping boy.  
  
"Harry!" she barked. "Harry get up this instant! The muggles will see you!"  
  
The boy made a slight noise that sounded like the words "No, five more minutes." and rolled over again. The lady grew a stern look on her face and kicked the boy softly in the ribs, not hard, but enough to wake him.  
  
"Wha-?" the boy asked with a tired voice.  
  
"Harry, you're lying around here with your cloaks on as if it's nobody's business! You can't be doing this, a muggle will see you!" she said.  
  
The boy rubbed his eyes roughly with balled up hands and sat up. His eyes were a bright shade of green and he had messy untidy hair. He had a great scar on his forehead that was in the shape of a lightning bolt. He was definitely not ordinary. His name was Harry Potter. Harry stared at the old lady and replied.  
  
"Ms. Figg, no one will see me. They're all out doing their chores and errands."  
  
He was quite right; there seemed no one but the two on the streets. All was silent until the voice of Ms. Figg broke it.  
  
"You heard me. Now take those robes off or I'll do it for you. You cannot be seen like that or the muggles'll get suspicious." she growled.  
  
"Fine," he replied. "But I'm not staying inside. The Dursleys' are in their mood again. Uncle Vernon threw a book at me and Aunt Petunia threatened me with a frying pan."  
  
She gave him a look of annoyance and pointed towards the nearest house as if telling him to "Go now!" He stood up and dusted off his clothes. He was tall and scrawny with dark black hair and bright green eyes. His clothes were definitely different from what most people would call "normal". He walked across the clean-cut grass of Number 4 and went through the door. Yelling had automatically erupted from inside the house.  
  
"What have I told you about coming back!-"  
  
"Vernon don't! You'll kill him-"  
  
"Then kill him I will. He's NOT letting that ruddy bird fly through my kitchen and eat the bacon again! -"  
  
"Vernon! Let-him-go!"  
  
The voices seemed to cease until only one voice was heard again.  
  
"Alright."  
  
Harry walked out the house again with normal clothes on and a mean and nasty look. He stomped over to Mrs. Figg aggressively and growled.  
  
"See why I hate it in there?" Harry said. "I can't take it anymore Ms. Figg. I've already been attacked four times today. I have 2 lumps on my head from a metal spoon and-"  
  
He rubbed his bottom and went on.  
  
"-Aunt Petunia got me with the pan."  
  
She looked funnily at him as if pitying his frying pan incident until she smiled and patted him on the back. She motioned for him to walk across the street to another house. This house looked like all the rest, but had a different aurora to it. The closer you walked, the more intense a smell of cabbage got. He walked onto the sidewalk and over to the door. He looked down at the placemat. "Welcome Harry." It said. He didn't seem bothered that an inanimate object just spoke to it, but instead spoke back.  
  
"Hi Wellimus. How are you?" he asked it.  
  
"Why, I'm just worn out, young Harry Potter. I mean, how do expect a welcome mat to feel after being stepped on 20 times a day. But please, do come in." it spoke back.  
  
He nodded and grabbed the doorknob. As he walked into the house the placemat gave a little "Umph!" as Harry stepped on it. The house was now a very strong smell of cabbage and looked very unusual for a normal house. The couches were ripped in certain parts, the floor seemed to be made out of the same material Mrs. Figg handbag was made out of. Harry recognized this as dragon hide. It was very scratchy as they entered and walked on it. There were many clocks in this room, all of which had no numbers on it, but words such as "Work" and "Sleep" and "Eating". Instead of hands there were spoon shaped figures that had faces on them. Harry recognized one of the faces as his own, which then moved to "Home".  
  
The living quarters were, if anything, extraordinary. However, it was nothing compared to the kitchen area of the house. The were many vials that contained many different coloured liquids. There were giant pots that didn't seem quite the shape a pot should be. They were shaped like cauldrons witches used in medieval times. Harry didn't seem at all surprised at the fact that there were giant lizards in cages with blue markings around the eyes, a carpet made of dragon hide, or even the fact that the house seemed to be bigger inside than it's small appearance outside. No, none of this bothered him. None of it even made him wince or grow wide-eyed. He was used to this kind of lifestyle, not the lifestyle of the ordinary everyday person, but that of a wizard's. Ms. Figg quickly entered the living room of the house with a smile on her face. Her smile, however, seemed to fade as she turned to Harry. She sighed a deep sigh and then spoke.  
  
"Look, Harry," she started. I know how you're feeling. I honestly do. You've been locked up in that house for days. But it will all get better when you hear this news I've just received."  
  
A smile widened on her chubby face until it almost seemed impossible to stretch any further. She held out a letter and signaled Harry to take it from her. He looked at the beige envelope for a few moments and then took it from Ms. Figg. He stared at what was written on the front. It seemed to be written in very untidy scrawl. It was almost impossible to read but Harry had an idea of what it said.  
  
Harry Potter  
  
Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey  
  
To address to Number 8 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey  
  
A smile appeared on his sad face as he quickly ripped the top off of the envelope. He read through the letter aloud, making sure Ms. Figg had read it too.  
  
Dear Harry, I've got very wonderful news for you. Dumbledore's found a replacement Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for Hogwarts. You may not find this as too much of a surprise but you will as soon as you find out who it is. I wont spoil the surprise for you just yet, but when you arrive at Hogwarts on September the 1st you'll know all right.  
  
I've been busy over the past few weeks. I've been trying to recruit some more Giants to our side. I don't think it'll work. Seems the only one that we've got on the Ministry's side is our little Grawp here. He's been learning all sorts of English and he almost knows how to said Hagrid. He still only calls me Hagree, but it's an improvement from Hagger, don't you think?  
  
Hermione and Ron seem to be all right. I've talked to them once or twice at the Burrow. They both seemed to think that they need to brush Ron up on his Keeper skills for next season. I really do hope that Gryffindor keeps up their Quidditch Cup championship this term. I was really proud of them when they won it last year. I think you'll be pleased to hear that Dumbledore got your Quidditch license back so you'll be playing next term. Since Fred and George Weasley left Hogwarts a year early we have already gotten their spots permanently filled. I wont say who, but I think you'll be happy to hear when you get here.  
  
I have talked it over with Dumbledore and we both have decided that you should stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer. Ms. Figg will be transporting you there I suppose and you should arrive a few days after you read this letter. I hope you have a great summer, Harry, and I can't wait to see you when next term starts.  
  
Your Friend,  
Hagrid P.S. I've sent you a birthday present that should arrive within the hour of reading this.  
  
Harry stood, in amazement, at all the things Hagrid had provided in his letter. Had Dumbledore perhaps trusted him more now that he knew why Voldemort was after him? Was he now going to be treated more like a human being rather than an object with a scar on his head? This he wasn't sure about, but his spirits were rising none-the-less.  
  
Harry looked up at Ms. Figg, who was waiting for some sort of response. His smile soon grew wider when Ms. Figg pulled something else from her tiny crocodile skin bag. It seemed to be a package of some sort, with three more letters attached to it. One of the writing on the letters Harry saw must be Hermione's. The other two he recognized as Ron's handwriting and a letter from Hogwarts. Harry reached for the package and sat down on the beat up couch. He stared excitedly into the package for a moment but decided it was best to open the cards first.  
  
He tore open the first card, from Ron, which seemed to be stuffed of something. As he opened the card a thousand tiny pieces of coloured papers burst into the air. Harry gave a slight chuckle and read the card. Harry,  
Hi Harry, it's Ron. I wanted to wish you a happy 16th birthday. Hermione and I decided not to give you your present quite yet, but as soon as you arrive at the Burrow we will. Hagrid said he would tell you that you'd be coming here for the rest of the summer. I'm so excited that we're going back to Hogwarts soon, Ginny's been pestering me about teaching her how to pull off that wronskei's feint that Krum did at the Quidditch World Cup.  
  
You wont believe who got into Fred and Georges Quidditch spots. I wont say quite yet, but as soon as you get here I will. I hope you arrive early tonight; Mum's making her famous friggleberry pie for desert tonight. But enough of my blabber, I'll tell you everything when you get here!  
  
Ron  
  
Harry had now been told twice about the new Beaters places being filled, but not of who filled them. He could only imagine who it was. Putting Ron's letter aside the grabbed Hermione's in a quick pace. He expected confetti to burst out of the envelope but nothing happened. He pulled out a piece of parchment with very neat writing on it and stared to read.  
  
Harry,  
We've been looking forward to seeing you at the Burrow tomorrow. I don't know when you'll get this seeing as how Errol sent it, but I hope it's soon. As I'm sure everyone has been telling you, The Weasley twin's spots have been filled. I was very surprised who was picked, and I'm sure you will be too. Ron made me swear not to say in the letter, so you'll have to find out when you get here.  
  
Hagrid's written to me telling me that Grawp's been doing great on his grammar lessons. Unfortunately, he still wants me to teach Grawp myself. He says I'd be a greater influence on him. I've also written to Remus for old times sake. I don't want to make you remember what happened last year, but Lupin says that Sirius's funeral will be held August 14th in Grimmauld Place. They'll be having a tribute to him with all of the Order members and everything. I'm sorry that you lost him, Harry. It must hurt so badly. Please keep your spirits up and don't use any more spells out of school.  
  
We are all looking forward to you coming Harry.  
  
With love,  
Hermione  
  
Harry's mood had suddenly changed. His smile turned to a frown and he was no longer happy. It was as if all of the life in him had been stolen. He had been reminded once more of the great lost he had suffered just a few months before. His godfather, Sirius Black, had been murdered. Sirius himself had been framed 15 years before for the murder of 13 humans. Harry kept telling himself not to blame the death on himself, but it was hard. He had lead Sirius accidentally into the Department of Mysteries. He had made Sirius come to the rescue and die in the act. It had been hurting Harry for months now. He was no longer the happy soul he was a few moments before, and he knew Ms. Figg could sense it.  
  
"What's the matter, Harry?" she whispered. "What is it?"  
  
"Nothing," said Harry. "It's nothing at all."  
  
Harry tried to force smile but it made him feel even worse. Nothing could make him feel better right now. Sirius was like a brother to him before he was murdered. Sirius has been stolen, and Harry will never forgive the one who sent him to his death. Bellatrix Lestrange will pay for this. Harry thought. Next time I see her she'll wish she hadn't have crossed Harry Potter. Now, instead of sadness and tears, Harry was full of deep anger and hatred. It was as though he could kill someone at the very moment. He tried to shake off the thoughts of Bellatrix and focus more on the letters he had just received.  
  
"Are you sure you're fine Harry? You seem a bit, strange." Ms. Figg continued to ask.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure, Ms. Figg. Don't worry."  
  
He then stared at the third letter and realized that it must be his supplies list for Hogwarts. It seemed rather bulky and he knew there must be a lot of things to buy this year. He tossed the letter aside and thought Well; I may as well open it later. Harry glanced over to the packaged and knew it was the present Hagrid was talking about in his letter. With a little more caution he pulled the tape off the box and opened the flaps. He expected an animal of some sort to jump out and eat him alive.but instead there was a small golden object. He picked up the piece of gold and knew at once what it was. The golden object, was a key.  
  
Ms. Figg gave a little gasp and pointed to a letter in the box. Harry picked it up with shaky and unsure hands and read aloud.  
  
Harry,  
Your godfather as you know died last June. He however didn't expect to leave you without anything in case he ever did pass away during his work for the Order. He specifically asked me to present this key to you, and also to enclose this note with it:  
  
Harry, We may have only known each other since your third year, but it's felt as though I've known you all along. I don't know how, or when I will die, but I hope that you will move on in your life and do great things. I want you to know that I have and always will love you like a child. You're the only one that I can talk to like pure family. Not even Remus and I can feel as close as you and me have. So, I have decided that when the time comes for me to leave I will leave you the key to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. You may now think of it as your home away from home. Don't be scared to go there, as you may think it might bring upon bad memories. I want you to remember the good times you and me had in life, and I will never forget you for saving me in your third year. You are the bravest person I have ever met, Harry. I will never forget you.  
  
Love,  
Your godfather,  
Sirius  
  
Tears rolled down Harry's face as he examined the golden key Sirius had left him. He, Harry, had actually owned a house in which hi one and only godfather had grew up in. It was the best present he could have ever asked for. As he read through the letter one more time, he softly said aloud, I won't forget you either, Sirius. ************************************************************************  
  
Author's Note: Sorry if that was a bit long. I kind of had to explain a lot in the chapter. Please review on how I'm doing so far. REVIEW! 


	2. The Dursley Dropout

Author's Note: This chapter is going to have a lot of book five facts in it that I'd rather not explain in the writing. So if you (for some reason) are reading this and haven't read up to book five I suggest you stop reading.  
  
Also, I want to thank all of you who reviewed my story. Good or bad I'm glad that people would actually spend their time for it.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of this, I'm afraid. :(  
  
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Chapter Two  
  
The Dursley Dropout  
  
The next few hours Harry had spent packing his clothes and school things for the Burrow. He kept moving his eyes slowly back to the key he had received every now and then. He still could not get over the shock that he, Harry Potter, had actually owned his own house. He didn't see any reason what he could do with it though. He figured the Order would still be using it so it wouldn't completely be his anyway.  
  
It was lucky the Dursleys were even more afraid of Harry now. This was because Mad Eye Moody, Tonks, and Lupin had threatened them before he went back to their house. He had more peace and quiet around the house now and was no longer mistreated. All Harry had to ever do was throw one of them an angry glance and they followed his every command. He, of course, found this all very strange, yet a slightly new, better change of pace. As he packed his stuff he noticed a slight murmur of voices downstairs. He quickly grabbed his wand and held it in front of his face. The Dursleys were not home; at least, they said they wouldn't be for the rest of the day.  
  
He walked down the stairs making sure he didn't step on the third from the bottom. This step making a horrible creaking noise as you stepped on it. He peaked around the corner and noticed two shadows were in the kitchen. He couldn't make out who it was, due to the fact that you couldn't see through the kitchen's glass painted window. As he walked closer he could hear the voices, and knew at once who it was.  
  
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia we arguing, unsuccessfully trying to keep their voices down to a minimum. Harry pressed his right ear to the wall of the kitchen, trying to hear anything they were saying.  
  
"Petunia, you CAN'T be serious! All those years we tried to keep all those bad memories and people out of our lives. You can't go through with this!"  
  
"Vernon, I've made up my mind. That boy has been living with us for almost 15 years now and he keeps making all of us feel more and more threatened. I tried to go through it but the school figured I didn't have it in me. I guess I wasn't their type. So I left the school and decided to hold a grudge against anything of the sort."  
  
"Well that's all peachy, Petunia, but to go BACK? To try and learn it again, it's all crazy talk!"  
  
"It may be for you, Vernon, but my sister always was the more talented one in the family. Lily this and Lily that, I wouldn't be surprised if mother hated me compared to her. I finally have the courage to talk to that bearded man and see if there's anything we can do."  
  
"Well, I suppose you could try, but please don't go dressing in those crazy outfits. The neighbors will think you've finally flipped your lid."  
  
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't have enough evidence to prove it, but he had enough to hold a strong bet. Before he could think he barged in the kitchen and stood there, looking at his aunt and uncle staring back at him. He then quickly said,  
  
"Not all of the neighbors will think that."  
  
They stared at each other as if one of them might explode or try to attack the other, but no one moved. Harry could tell that his Uncle's face was growing a deep scarlet red, almost ginger like Ron's hair. Harry then spoke again.  
  
"Is it true, Aunt Petunia? Did you actually go to Hogwarts?"  
  
This was enough for Uncle Vernon. His shot up, slammed his fist on the kitchen table and yelled,  
  
"How DARE you listen to our private conversations! How DARE you eavesdrop in this house! Don't you EVER say that word to me ever again!"  
  
"Hog-wart-s," Harry taunted.  
  
Uncle Vernon seemed ready to kill, ready to jump at Harry from limb to limb, but Harry knew he wouldn't. He found this all very amusing in a pleasant sort of way. He could mimic, taunt, or talk back to his Uncle and yet he wouldn't punish him at all. Uncle Vernon was growing redder in the face by the second and he could tell Aunt Petunia could sense it.  
  
"It's alRIGHT, Vernon. He's got every right to know." she spoke. "Harry, I know all these years you've thought of me as a wizard hating person. As a matter of fact, I mostly was. But I wasn't always, I assure you. If you must know, please sit down."  
  
Harry, almost liking the fact that for once in his life, Aunt Petunia was being nice to him, sat down like she asked him to. She had a sort of sad look on her face, and her happy self was no longer there. She rested her hands on the table and looked at Harry. She then spoke aloud.  
  
"When I was the ripe age of 11 my parents sat down to talk to us about what we'd be doing the next 7 years. We both knew very well that are parents were wizards, and that we had the blood in us too. They told us that we'd be going Hogwarts, a school were we'd learn the magical arts and grow up to be two successful witches. Both Lily and I were close then, and we were both very excited about going there. So, we packed our bags and traveled to King's Cross, such as you do every year."  
  
As we entered the train we met strange, new faces, some of which we liked. Your mother had settled in the compartment were 3 people had already sat. James Potter, Frank Longbottom, and Remus Lupin. I had sat a few compartments away, making friends with strange sorts such as Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew. We all, of course, sat and talked to the new people we had met. When the train had finally arrived at Hogwarts, your mother and I mother met up together to gossip about the people we spoke to."  
  
Harry couldn't believe what he was being told. All these years, his Aunt and Uncle making hell for him about how magic was bad and not to speak of it, yet his own Aunt had been a witch. What surprise Harry more possibly, was the list of names his Aunt had given. His mom had been close to Neville's parents and even met his dad the first train ride over. This was all very confusing to Harry, but he still listened on.  
  
"Your mother and I were very scared about being sorted, she seemed to think that we had to pull a rabbit out of a hat." She spoke on. "However, as you might know, we only had to put the hat on our head and hope for the best. Your father was sorted first. He ended up going into Gryffindor with great ease. Your mother was also sorted into Gryffindor, which made me nervous. I didn't want to end up in a different house than her. Frank Longbottom and Cindy Abbott were both sorted into Hufflepuff. Lucius had only the hat barely touch his hair when the hat sorted him into Slytherin. His two friends, I believe their last names were Crabbe and Goyle, were also sorted into Slytherin."  
  
Harry got even more interested in his Aunt's story; mostly due to the fact that Draco's father was sorted almost identically to his dad. He wondered why his Aunt hadn't said which house she was in yet, but his question was soon brought up.  
  
"It seemed as though I was the last one to be sorted. I was very nervous, beyond belief. I was the only one standing there, waiting to be sorted. My name was called and I slowly approached the chair. I sat down and waited for Professor Dumbledore to set the hat on my head. He did so and almost as if the hat spoke in my ear it said,"  
  
'Ah, yes, Petunia Evans. Yes, hmmmm, you've got courage, determination, and also it seems you like to cause trouble. Yes, very difficult, very difficult indeed. Well, it seems we must put you in only one house. Yes, I've made up my mind. You'd be great in none other than-'  
  
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Author's Note: Ohhhhh, sorry, I've got to make you wait, hehehe. I know this wasn't very long but I didn't have much time to write it. I hope you like the story so far and remember, please review!!! 


	3. The Midnight Sneak

Author's Note: Sorry I left it where I did. But cliffhangers make a story sooo much more exciting! This is going to be a long chapter (like chapter 1 size) to make up for last week's teeny-weeny update. And now, the moment to reveal what house Aunt Petunia was in. . . .  
  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of this, I'm afraid. :(  
  
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Chapter Three  
  
The Midnight Sneak  
  
Slytherin!" yelled the old frayed hat in Aunt Petunia's ear. Harry no longer needed to listen to Aunt Petunia's story directly, because his mind was envisioning exactly what she told him itself. The look on Aunt Petunia's 11-year-old face was tremendously sad. She looked as though she would burst into tears. With much sulkiness she took a seat at the Slytherin table. She gave a desperate glance over to her sister, but she wasn't looking, Lily was talking to James Potter, who was being cocky-like and messing up his hair constantly.  
  
Harry looked around for any sight of a Tom Riddle, but suddenly realized that Voldemort wasn't at Hogwarts with his parents. However, he could definitely see how scrawny Wormtail was. He was sitting next to James, Remus, and-  
  
His stomach suddenly gave an unpleasant jolt. His head started to spin and that same feeling in his heart happened. It was Sirius, young and youthful, face full of joy. Harry wished that he could warn Sirius about what Pettigrew would do in the next few years, but this was only Harry's imagination, and it wouldn't do any good otherwise. He tried to focus on Aunt Petunia, because there was obviously a reason that she had dropped out of school, and he wanted to know why. She seemed to be fitting in quite well with the Slytherins, but moments before she had seemed completely crushed.  
  
The Great Hall back in their days was completely different. There were teachers Harry hadn't had seen in his life, students he had never even heard of. However, there were many familiar faces to go along with the other crowd. Harry recognized a younger Albus Dumbledore, whose hair was instead of white, a dark gray tone. He noticed Hagrid, young yet strong, sitting with the table of teachers, like he always had. Harry noticed that Hagrid must have been kicked out of Hogwarts years ago, but he still seemed as though he didn't fit.  
  
The Start of Term Feast seemed to go very well in Harry's opinion. Everyone was happy and filled with joy, not to mention filled with food. He saw Aunt Petunia follow a group of students down to the dungeons, where Harry, by previous happenings, knew the Slytherin dungeon was located. Before he could even follow her he was transported into a classroom, it seemed he had gone by a couple of months into he year due to the fact that Aunt Petunia had looked a little taller than she was before.  
  
She was sitting at a table with 2 people, a Hufflepuff Harry didn't recognize, and Lucius Malfoy. They were chatting almost too well, a thing that made Harry feel uneasy. His own Aunt not only had kept such a secret, but also was a Slytherin, the house he rivaled the most. His Aunt only stopped talking when the teacher walked into the classroom, or at least, he WOULD have walked in the room. He was a ghost, who had entered the room by floating through the chalkboard. Harry recognized this ghost as Professor Bins, who he also had for a History of Magic teacher.  
  
The class was just as if not more boring than he had known it to be. They were studying the founding of the International Warlock's Convention. He could tell his Aunt was struggling. Her papers were in bunches, parts of them were torn, some were on the floor, and yet everyone else had a near if not completely organized folder. Professor Bins noticed that Aunt Petunia was preoccupied by her papers and jumped joyfully to the chance to scold her.  
  
"Is there a problem, Ms. Evans?" he asked almost too nicely.  
  
"Um, well, I'm kind of having a little, um, a little paper trouble. That's all." She answered him.  
  
He seemed to have a rather mean look on his face until a smile widened on his face.  
  
"It seems you should join me in a detention on Monday to get your, er, papers, in order. Perhaps that will teach you to become better prepared, Miss Evans."  
  
"Yes Professor Bins." She respectfully said.  
  
His Aunt seemed as though ready to cry right in the middle of the class, but instead she buried her face into a pile of books as Professor Bins continued his lesson. Harry was then transported into yet another class, this time it seemed to be the potions dungeon. A rather shady looking man stepped into the room and started to teach.  
  
"Class, today's potion will be the Wiggenweld Draft. It helps restore the body and mind when it is weak. The ingredients and directions are on the board." He said as he flicked his wand to magically make words appear on the black board.  
  
Harry noticed aunt Petunia was still sitting next to Lucius Malfoy, but on her right was someone else, someone more familiar.  
  
"Need any help, Miss May?" said the potions master to a ginger-haired little girl.  
  
Harry recognized this girl as a young version of Mrs. Weasley, although, of course, she was not married. Harry had never known Mrs. Weasley's maiden name, And he certainly never had expected it to be Molly May.  
  
"N-no P-professor." She said with an afraid tone.  
  
Apparently the old potion's master was just as hated as the current one. Harry wondered why the old one left but suddenly remembered Fred telling him that the Potions Master that his mum had, had died. Harry only wished Snape would do the same, but he quickly got back to observing Aunt Petunia once more. Like her previous class, she seemed to be having a difficult time. All the rest of the class had their potion a dark blue shade, yet hers was a violent shocking pink. The professor quickly rushed over to her, and like Professor Bins, and scolded her for her bad work.  
  
"Pink, Miss Evans? Can you not process the fact that Lucius's potion over here is blue? Are you colour blind, Miss Evans?"  
  
He made a little "Tisk, tisk" sound and then spoke again.  
  
"I'm afraid I must deduct 10 house points from Slytherin, AND I'll be expecting you in a detention with me on Monday." He said.  
  
"I-I-I already have a detention on Monday, Professor." She shakily replied.  
  
The professor gave a cross look at Aunt Petunia and walked around her desk silently. He seemed to be circling her like some sort of vulture, waiting for its prey to somehow die a horrible death. Aunt Petunia whimpered a slight whimper and sunk deep into her chair. Apparently the vulture was satisfied with almost dead prey because he had landed for the meat.  
  
"Do you expect to get ANYWHERE at this rate, Miss Evans! Do you think it's funny that you are failing in almost every class but Transfiguration? Is this all amusing to you?" he quickly snapped.  
  
"No- no, Professor, of course n-"  
  
"I don't want excuses, Miss Evans! I want to know your reasons for failing all these classes! If you do not get your act together you surely will not pass first year! Am I understood, Miss Evans?" he barked.  
  
"Y-yes S-sir." She said, feeling faint.  
  
"You will meet me in my office on Tuesday at midnight to serve your detention. If your not there 100 points will be deducted from Slytherin and I will be writing to your parents, AM I UNDERSTOOD, Miss Evans?"  
  
She could only nod. It seemed as though the professor had killed the voice box right out of her. Gosh, he's meaner than Snape! Harry thought. The class was quiet for the rest of the time until Harry was once again transported to another classroom, and then another, and another. Class after class Harry saw Aunt Petunia get scolded and receive yet another detention. It was completely unfair, Harry thought to himself. She had been trying her hardest and wasn't getting any help.  
  
After Harry had been transported from Charms he had expected to go to another class, but instead he ended up in the Slytherin common room, where a tear soaked Aunt Petunia lay. Harry looked over at the Snake decorated clock; it was 4 minutes until midnight. His Aunt had seemed lifeless now, not willing to go on. She stared at the sky for what seemed like eternity until she whispered to herself.  
  
"Why me, why can't they pick on someone else? Frank Longbottom isn't very well in his Potions. Molly May stinks at Charms, and yet I get all the blame. I've already lost 85 points from Slytherin and I've got detention all next week and half of the week after that. What am I doing here? I don't belong. I can't do magic as well as they do, I just CAN'T!" she yelled, slamming her fist into the cold, hard floor of the common room.  
  
Harry looked at his crying Aunt, who seemed to be on her deathbed. He had understood what it had felt like to not fit in, to not be exactly like the rest. Hogwarts wasn't that nice back then, he thought to himself again. He heard his Aunt Petunia mutter something else.  
  
"The only teacher here that seems to think of me as successful is Professor Dumbledore. He never judges my spells; he helps me with them when I need it. I don't belong here. I need to leave this place. I never wanted to be in this house, I wanted to be with my sister. But now look at her, Miss Perfect. She always hangs around that Potter kid, the one who's already made the Quidditch team despite his age. Well I'll show them all. I don't need magic like they do. I can live perfectly well on my own! That's IT! I'm going!" she yelled.  
  
Harry saw here stomp her way into the dormitories. He heard a slight ruckus followed by sobbing cries and "good riddance!" She then walked back into the room and faced a wall at the far end of the common room.  
  
"Serpent-tail!" she yelled, as the wall suddenly turned into steps leading upwards. Harry ran after her, after realizing he wouldn't be transported there instead. She was crying the whole way up, until she came to yet another wall. She once again yelled "Serpent-tail!" and the wall opened up. She stumbled out, tripping over a crack in the floor. This only caused her to cry even harder. She darted down the stairwell and finally got to the first floor. Harry followed with great difficulty.  
  
When she had gotten almost 15 feet away from the great oak doors a dark shadow came into view. Aunt Petunia looked worried. She hid her suitcase behind her back as if it would help the situation. Harry then saw who the figure was, a very young and seemingly angry version, of Albus Dumbledore . . .  
  
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Sooooo, how did you like it? Yes, I KNOW I left you at yet another cliffhanger, but this time, as last time too, it was necessary. Okay, so maybe it wasn't, but you gotta admit, I've got style. Hehehehehe. Anyway, please review on how I'm doing so far! 


	4. No Turning Back

Author's Note: I want to thank all of you for your reviews. They are all like candy to me, and so far I haven't hit a sour one. ^_^. Lol, jk! The last chapter was another cliffhanger, as will be the next, and the next, and so on and so forth. Now, a little review of the last chapter.  
  
Aunt Petunia was sorted into (dumdumDUM!) Slytherin and starts to hang around Lucius Malfoy.  
  
She starts to get scolded by almost every teacher but Dumbledore and finally ends up trying to leave. However, just as she gets to the great oak doors to leave, an angry, yet young, Albus Dumbledore comes into view. That, of course, is where I left off.  
  
New Author's Note: I'm Sooooo sorry for the lack of updating. I KNOW it's been 2 months, and I know you're all angry. But I've got a life too, and lately I've been under a bad depression. I'm feeling better now so you can expect to at least get 2 more chapters out of me (Lol).  
  
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Chapter Four  
  
No Turning Back  
  
Harry stood there, eyes transfixed on Dumbledore. He wasn't sure what Dumbledore's reaction would be when Aunt Petunia explained that she would be leaving. He seemed to just stare at her through his half moon spectacles. She was trembling, most likely thinking she'd surely be in trouble. Dumbledore circled around her, looking down at her suitcase and then up at her once again. His expression changed from angry to sad in an instant. He then spoke.  
  
"I'm sorry you must be leaving us, Miss Evans." Harry and his Aunt stared at Dumbledore, wide-eyed. The flickering light of the torches made his face seem younger than it was, as the brushed off some dust that was settling on his robes.  
  
"Um, aren't you going to-to punish me, sir? I'm trying to leave the school. Isn't that against a rule or something?" she spoke back.  
  
Dumbledore gave a slight chuckle and smiled at Petunia. He waved his hands in the air and two fluffy chairs appeared from nowhere. He sat down in the first one, and motioned her to do the same. As Aunt Petunia sat Dumbledore folded his hands and spoke once again.  
  
"No, my dear, it is not against the rules. After all, we cannot make you stay at Hogwarts against your will. No, I simply have a way of finding these things out, and came to see you off safely. How did you think you'd get back home?"  
  
Harry noticed a look on her face that told him she didn't even know the answer to that question herself. Harry noticed Dumbledore's face suddenly grew strangely happier.  
  
"Miss Evans, I realize you have been having troubles with your school life. I am afraid to say that not everybody has in fact made it through seven complete years at Hogwarts. There have been many dropouts, and I must tell you, none of them have turned out completely useless." Dumbledore spoke.  
  
Aunt Petunia gave a forced laugh. Her face was growing paler by the minute. Harry came closer to the two, as he knew they wouldn't see him anyway. Aunt Petunia gave a little cough and shifted in her chair. She brought herself up to speak.  
  
"P-professor? May I ask you something?" she asked.  
  
"Sure, Miss Evans, go ahead." He replied.  
  
"Well, see, I was just wondering . . .wondering why you haven't failed me in your class. I've done horrible with my spells. All the other teachers notice this, but you seem not to care."  
  
Dumbledore gave another chuckle and quickly conjured two butterbeers from thin air as he had done with the chairs. He handed one to Aunt Petunia and signaled her to drink it. He took a sip himself and set his drink in his lap.  
  
"Ah, yes, a good question indeed. I believe that you are doing splendid in all your subjects. However, most of my fellow teachers believe that things must be precise. I don't agree the least. I think that if a student is trying their hardest they shouldn't be failed, they cannot help it that they aren't as skilled as the rest of the class. I see that you are having trouble with your spells, Miss Evans, yet you always try over and over; and that, is what I believe every students needs . . .determination."  
  
"Well, Professor," she spoke again. "I just don't think I'm as skilled as the rest. I just don't think I fit in here. I want to go home, Professor. I don't need magic to survive out there. I want to go back home with my mum and dad."  
  
Tears started to roll down Aunt Petunia's face once again. Her face fell into her hands and she sobbed even harder. It was hard for Harry not to feel sorry for his Aunt. She truly thought she couldn't make it. She was giving up and wasn't giving it reconsideration. Harry could tell Dumbledore knew there was no persuading her to stay. He got up from his fluffy armchair and made it disappear as quickly as he had conjured it. He slowly walked over to Petunia, creating a gentle pitter-patter with every step.  
  
"There there, Miss Evans." He said while patting her back gently. "There is no need to cry. We will simply have to send you by floo powder. Now, you know what floo powder is, correct, Miss Evans?"  
  
She nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. She got up from her fluffy chair and grabbed her suitcase. Harry saw that Dumbledore was strangely preoccupied . . . with a wall opposite from him. Dumbledore neither moved nor blinked; he just stared. Suddenly, as though the wall spring to life, it started to move. It seemed the air in front of the wall was making a rippling movement, and then a person appeared from the ripples.  
  
Harry knew only too well what had happened. The person standing in front of him had used a disillusionment potion to blend in with his surroundings perfectly. Harry had done this once last year when he was rescued from the Dursleys' house. The man standing in front of him was short, thin, and growing slight bald. He was wearing a brown cloak with the Hogwarts emblem sewn onto it. Dumbledore gave a slight laugh and walked over to the man.  
  
"Igor," said Dumbledore. "You really do entertain me. You seem to be having fun with your new potion, perhaps too much fun."  
  
"Indeed," the man spoke back. "I wanted to know what the ruckus down here was so I disguised myself with the potion. I must say it's half your fault for supplying me with it."  
  
The man named Igor now turned to face Aunt Petunia. She was still slightly crying, suitcase still in hand. Igor then spoke once more.  
  
"Now who do we have here, Dumbledore?" he asked.  
  
"This is Miss Petunia Evans. She would have been one of your future astronomy students if it weren't for some slight details to the matter." He answered back.  
  
"Oh, Albus, she's not being expelled is she? She seems to be a nice little girl, and only in her first year. Why would the headmaster expel her-" he was cut off.  
  
"Not expel, Igor," Dumbledore interrupted. "She is leaving on her own free will. Her classes haven't gone as she expected so she'll be leaving tonight by floo powder."  
  
"Ah, yes, I see." He said with a slight disappointment in his voice.  
  
Dumbledore then turned about face and looked at Petunia. She was trembling; obviously afraid of all the people she might have to meet. She didn't know this man nor did she want to. She wanted to leave. She wanted to go home and be with her mother. Dumbledore cheerfully spoke.  
  
"Miss Evans, this is Professor Igor Karakoff. He's the Astronomy teacher here at Hogwarts. You would have had him next year but seeing as how you have decided to leave us earlier than expected, you wont be able to have the pleasure. Now, shall we take you to my office now so we can contact your mother and father, Miss Evans?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Y-yes, P-profess-sor." Said Aunt Petunia, still trembling badly.  
  
Harry found the journey to Dumbledore's office quite exciting. It was amazing to see Hogwarts so many years ago. The torches along one corridor changed colour and extinguished themselves periodically. Down another corridor was a gallery of paintings containing beasts of many kinds. Harry noticed one of them to be a Basilisk and another to be a cage of pixies.  
  
As they arrived at the end of a hallway a loud cackle emerged from the opposite end. Dumbledore, Harry, Petunia and Igor all flung themselves around to see what thing could have made such a mischievous sound. Harry didn't have to think too much, for that cackle her had heard many times in his present day. It was Peeves, Peeves the Poltergeist, and he seemed to be causing mischief as always. He came bursting through the hall holding a green water balloon. Harry new Peeves was about to throw it but he didn't duck, he knew the water couldn't touch him.  
  
He was right; Peeves tossed the balloon directly at Karakoff's head a cackled as he flew off into the corridor west of them. Igor stood there, soaking wet, water dripping onto the floor and gave a deep sigh. It seemed Dumbledore was trying to keep in laughter and obviously Karakoff knew it too.  
  
"Something funny, Dumbledore? Do you find the idea of me soaking wet standing in the middle of a freezing cold corridor humorous?" Karakoff said angrily.  
  
Dumbledore gave a chuckle.  
  
"Why yes, Igor, indeed I do. You must admit, the wet clothes give you personality."  
  
Harry laughed. He always did love the way Dumbledore was serious when needed, yet had a good sense of humor when the time calls. Dumbledore walked away from Petunia and Karakoff and stood in front of a large statue of an eagle.  
  
"Earwax Jellybean." He said to it.  
  
The stature sprung to life and spun in circles upward like a spinning top, revealing a large stairwell that led to a door made of mahogany. They continued to advance towards the door until a moment later they had reached the summit of the stairwell. Dumbledore stopped in his tracks once more, turned to face Aunt Petunia, and put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"This is your choice, Miss Petunia Evans. Once you enter this door and leave Hogwarts, there will be no turning back."  
  
Harry's stomach got an unpleasant feeling in it. He knew that Aunt Petunia had belonged to such a wonderful world, and now she was going to leave it all for the life of a muggle.  
  
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Sooooo, how do you like THOSE apples? They're pretty good, huh? Well, like I said, reviews are candy and my candy jar is empty. I'll try to have the next chapter to you by next week, so be patient! 


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